


Not a fighter

by sadplant



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Season/Series 08 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-02-27 09:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadplant/pseuds/sadplant
Summary: “That's not me,” she had said. And he swallowed those words like bitter wine, hoping they would numb him over the years. Hoping he could make his heart understand. “Any lady would be lucky to have you.” But she was not a lady. -- Angst/hurt/comfort. Arya/Gendry. Gendry's POV.





	1. Chapter 1

Gendry never thought he could be good at being a Lord. But he was.

He still didn't get the stupid rules - or the forks or the silks or the titles. He didn't like being pampered so he asked everyone to call him just Gendry, but, out of respect for him, no one did. Despite all of his efforts, to them he was Lord Gendry.

At first, he didn’t think they would accept him as their ruler. He was a bastard after all, no Dragon Queen would change that. But the people liked him. They thought him a good man. The elder always pointed out how much he looked like his dead father. Dark hair and blue eyes. They asked him when he would give his house an heir.

The war took its toll on the Westerosi, from North to South. More than ever, life seemed like something to be treasured. Every new child was a reason to celebrate during those days. The women of the castle wouldn't drink their special teas anymore. Swollen feet and round bellies were seen all over. They asked Gendry to name their unborn children. He had a hard time picking names, so he named a lot of them Jon. Even so, it was hardly the most common name in those lands.

He lost count of how many Roberts he’d met. Some were his age or older. Sometimes he wondered if they were his father's sons too. Why was he, out of all of them, sitting on that big chair? Was it fair? He thought about this a lot. And for that reason, or maybe because of how all of his life had been, he assured that every single one of Stormlands’ inhabitants had food. And that was more than what one could say about their previous rulers.

Whenever he had time to himself, Gendry worked at the forges. Those were peaceful days, people didn't need as many swords as they once did. But he took pleasure in that work. He liked to gift the men and women of the castle with his weapons. He told them that, if they wanted to rebel against him one day, they should be well armed. He believed that people should be able to fight their sovereigns if they wished to do so. Still, he hoped they wouldn't. At least while said sovereign was himself.

Gendry knew how to fight, but he wasn't a fighter. War was what he hated the most. He liked to create and build instead of destroying. And maybe that's why he was so drawn to her. She was something he shouldn't be able to understand - but, somehow, he did.

It was many years ago, but he could feel that night like it had happened yesterday. He got on his knees with pride. But Arya didn't want to be his Lady. And it wasn't because he was a bastard and she was born a noble, it wasn't because she wanted a stronger or richer man.

“That's not me,” she had said. And he swallowed those words like bitter wine, hoping they would numb him over the years. Hoping he could make his heart understand. “Any lady would be lucky to have you.” But she was not a lady.

And he was not a fighter.

So he didn't put up a fight. He didn't try to reason with her, to convince her she would still be herself even if she decided to settle down. It wouldn't be true. And he couldn't lie to her.

Gendry lay down at the forge’s floor and brought his arms behind his head. He could feel the floor cold against his skin, just like it had been that night. His guts turned at the thought of it. He closed his eyes and reminisced.

The night before she became Hero of Winterfell. Once again, he tried to remember the sounds they made. He tried to remember how her scars felt under his fingers. There were as much as stars in the sky, did she know that? For a second he was afraid of her. How many people had she killed?

He knew she wouldn't hurt him. He wanted her to hurt him. She bit him tenderly, her breath hot on his flesh. Her fingers burning their way up his back. He wished he'd be bruised all over. He wanted her to hurt him. She kissed him like he was something to take care of and then she bit his lips. His blood tasted like iron on their tongues. He wanted her to hurt him. She pressed him against the floor, towered over him. It was winter and they were in the North, but he felt damp with sweat.

He wanted her to hurt him. And she did.

She hurt him when she closed her eyes and let the smallest sound come out of her mouth. Her legs trembled against his. It hurt when she held his hands above his head and kissed his forehead, smiling. When she put her hand around his waist and licked the nape of his neck it hurt so much he felt like crying.

He wanted her to hurt him, but did she have to do it so thoroughly?

Maybe she didn't know any other way.

* * *

 “Lord Gendry,” he heard. For a moment, he thought he was going crazy. “I knew I would find you down here.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second and last part of this story. Hope you enjoy!

Gendry opened his eyes and there she was, looking at him. She offered her hand to help him get up and he took it gladly and stood up. “You’re here.”

“You should reinforce the safety of your castle, my lord.” She smiled, still holding his hand.

“Don't call me that.” Gendry could hear the pain in his voice. There she was.  _Finally_.

She let go of his hand and sat on the nearest table. “Hello, Gendry,” she said. “You look healthy. Lordship looks good on you.”

Suddenly, he felt conscious of his looks. When was the last time he took a bath? He pressed his lips in doubt. “Thank you.” He tried to remember what he should ask her, but his mind wasn't quite there. He scratched his head. “What… Uh. What are you doing here?” He stared at her.

It took her a minute to move. She shrugged. “Nothing,” she said.

“Nothing?"

“Nothing.”

“So you came all the way from gods know where for no reason?”

“I didn't say there wasn't a reason. You asked what I was doing and I'm not doing anything.”

“So there's a reason.”

“Yes.”

“What is the reason?”

“Guess.”

He sat next to her. After a long moment, he said “you killed all the evil kings and queens of the world and disappeared for five years. I can’t guess. I don't know why you're back.”

"Are you married?,” she asked.

“What? What does it matter?”

“Are you?”

“No.” Gendry looked at his own knees.

“No Lady of Storm's End?”

“Don't you dare- Don't do this to me. You know there isn't.”

“You know I can't be a Lady.”

“I know.” Why was she there? Just to spite him?

“Gendry.” She touched his chin, lifting his face.

She kissed him. Then she stopped and looked at him, asking a silent question. He just nodded, suddenly nervous. When was the last time he took a bath? She didn't seem to care.

He fumbled with her clothes, not sure of what to do. She pushed his hand away and straddled him, making he lie on the table. Were they ever going to use a bed? “Arya-” Her name felt so good on his tongue. She kissed him again, both of her hands were on him. He shivered. “Arya, I have a bed.”

“Save it for next time.” She nibbled his ear.

“Next time?”

She stopped and looked at him. Was she embarrassed?  “Like you said, I killed all the evil kings and queens of this world. I could stay for a little while. If you'll have me.”

She waited. He didn't know what to say. He reached and brought her hand to his lips and planted a kiss on her palm.

A little while.

That was enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My babies deserved a happy (sappy?) ending. Maybe I'll write about them again.


	3. Chapter 3

Gendry woke up naked, trembling under the blankets. He stretched his limbs to reach her but she wasn’t in bed anymore. In the Stormlands, days were lazy to wake up. The mists of the morning made the air shimmer, but it was still dark outside. By the window, stood Arya, very still and fully clothed.

“Arya,” his voice was raspy, “it's cold. Come back to bed.”

She was silent for so long he wondered if she had listened at all. “Arya,” he called again.

“I need to go.”

“Where?”

“Nowhere. I just need to go.”

“You don't. You know you don't. The war is over. You can stay.”

She didn’t answer. But she turned to face him with her burning gaze.

“ _For a little while_ ,” he used her words. “Please, Arya. I’m so cold. Don’t leave me like this.” It was almost a lie - when she looked at him like that he couldn’t feel the cold at all.

Arya raised an eyebrow, as if she were able to read his thoughts.

His feelings were so obvious right now it was funny remembering how long it took him to understand them in the past.

At first, he thought he just wanted to be like her.

To walk the world like her, with broad steps. Arya was smaller and younger than him, but also stronger and smarter. Shoulders pushed back, chest wide with pride. She was built in such a confident manner that even her fear looked like dare.

When he realized the true nature of what he felt, he became mortified. He was in love with the only woman in Westeros that didn’t want - and certainly did not need - a man. _Well,_ at least that’s what he thought before he met the princess of Dorne, who told him all about women who fancied other women. But the way Arya looked at him… Maybe she fancied women too, but he was sure she fancied him. Gendry allowed himself to have hope. After all those years, she was there with him. “For a little while” turned into a fortnight. All the Seven Kingdoms had already heard about the sudden appearance of Arya Stark of Winterfell in the Stormlands - Gendry was glad she was wearing her own face. Peace made people wish for weddings, so the women of the castle had been trying to make Arya comfortable. When they realized that dresses weren’t among her interests, they made her beautiful arrows. In return, Arya had taught some of them the basics of archery.

Gendry knew this wasn’t going to go on forever. He allowed himself to have hope, but he knew Arya was not someone who could stay or even be followed anywhere. She was too fast. Even right now, standing there in his chamber, she looked like the stuff of legend.

With what looked like just one gesture, she undid her belt, from which Needle was hanging, and put it on the floor. Gendry smiled. He got off the bed to take off her vest but she pushed him back and took it off herself.

After all of her very northern clothes were on the floor, she came closer and got them both under the blankets. Gendry felt the warmth of her body reach his cold skin.

She brought his hands to her mouth, blowing hot air on his palms. “You're freezing.”

“I told you.”

“Summer child.”

“You're as much of a summer child as I am.”

“I’m from the North.”

“There’s summer in the North too.”

“But there’s no winter at all down here.” She said this and got even closer. It was cozy. She nuzzled her nose on his forehead and wrapped her arms around him. “And you southerns don’t even know how to keep a fire strong. You’d all be dead in the North.”

“I’ve been there before and I’m not dead. I could go back to the North with you.”

“I’m not going there.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know... Nowhere.”

“Your sister misses you.”

She made him look at her. “What do you know about my sister?” Her voice sounded neutral but her eyes sold her out.

“When you disappeared she sent me some messages, asking me if you were here... She knows you’re here now. Well, all of the Seven Kingdoms do.”

Arya sighed. “I haven’t seen Sansa in years.” She was always so stubborn.

“If we go to the North you can teach me how to keep a fire strong.”

“I’m not a child, Gendry.”

“Don’t you want to see your sister?”

“She doesn’t have time to be my sister. She’s Queen in the North.”

They heard a knock on the door.

Gendry pulled the blankets to cover them better. “Yes?”

A woman opened the door and lowered her gaze to say “Lord Gendry, Lady Arya. Queen Sansa is here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, here's chapter three. Is this turning into a longfic? I don't know!!! But there's going to be at least a chapter four. Thank you, truly, thank you for all the kudos and comments! They mean a lot to me.
> 
> Hope you like it!

**Author's Note:**

> I ship them since the beginning of time and I'm very happy about what happened on the show! There's just one more chapter and we're done. Hope you like it! :)


End file.
